The sheep–our sheep–have been a great addition to the farm. They are making their way through the grass, they are quiet mowers, and they are quite entertaining. But Spot gets the grand prize. Who knew that sheep could be so social and like people so much.
She’s been different from the rest of the sheep since the very first day here. She went up to the gate to greet us the first evening, eight hours after arriving. The next morning, she accepted pets and scritches. She also gently nibbled on our fingers and hands. And it’s been sweet Spot ever since.
Many domesticated animals are friendly, but still a bit tentative and understandably so. Not Spot. After about two days here, she just walks (or runs) right up to you, no pausing 10 feet away to get a second look–things still okay with this human? yes, I think so–before the final approach. No, she walks or runs right up to wherever you are standing and then usually puts her head against our shins. So trusting.
Yesterday I went out to see her (and all the sheep–but really her…) in the afternoon. The sheep, especially the not-Spot sheep, are generally more comfortable when we are squatted down. It makes sense because we’re at eye level and closer to their size when folded up (admittedly, awkwardly).
Spot came over and rested her head on my shoulder. (Awww #1.) I tilted my head and leaned it on hers, giving her pats and scritches on the back all the while. Then she put her head down by my folded legs and started rubbing all of her head–muzzle, sides, top of her noggin–on my folded thigh/calf. (Awwwww #2.) She about pushed me over into–yes–sheep poop, not purposefully of course. I saw Tagine and Cinnamon gently bunking heads earlier this morning so sheep clearly have some “you’re in my flock” bunking, much like felines.
Yes, we have a sweet spot for sweet Spot.